


OC Drabbles

by TevinterFugitive



Category: Aurora Academy for the Gifted, Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TevinterFugitive/pseuds/TevinterFugitive
Summary: Stuff written specifically for me just to get it out but whateverMost of these will probably be very venty- I'm sorry that that's all I post these days...





	OC Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> This first one is a vent drabble using my OC Lilla.
> 
> Warnings: Murder, suicide mention at the very end, self harming mention

"Why'd I do it? You really have to ask?"

The blonde snarled, fangs glinting in the light from the flames before her.

"Why /did/ I do it? Maybe I'm just crazy."

"You're absolutely insane, actually." The deeper, accented voice across from the girl grumbled into the fire pit.

"Adorable, honestly. You'd be dead without me."

"And I'm dead because of you."

A snort and a roll of her eyes before she cracked her neck, glancing up and narrowing her eyes towards the voice through the flames.  
"And even dead, you're still an asshole."

"Alive, dead, or otherwise, you'll always be a bitch."

A laugh.  
"Thank you!"

"Not a compliment, Lilla Taura."

"Ooooh, was that my full name?"

She listened as the boy huffed, watched as he shook his head at her and glared.  
"What the fuck is wrong with you."

"Sooo many things."  
Lilla stood, stretching and glancing around.  
"I'm off for the night, see you next time."

Another grunt and growl of her name rolled from the man's lips, but the blonde was already trudging off into the woods to patrol the areas around the camp.

Patrol...  
But when did she ever really pay attention to that now? She had no one to protect, no one to care for, and she'd pay someone to kill /her/ at this point. She'd been the literal death of what could be considered her best friend and since that day she'd pretended to be fine, un-phased.

But maybe she really was fine, to some extent. She'd lost plenty, taken things from some and destroyed her own, sometimes happily. Sometimes without realizing. But always wrong.

That was how it was now. Wrong. So set that it made no difference now. So routine that she never even recognized it until it was too late and even then she still didn't care most of the time.

She'd killed him. Her words alone had been what drove him over the edge. She'd encouraged it, jokingly, just as others had, just as others he'd told her about would.  
Maybe since the words came from /her/ it was different.

A small shrug.

It was fucked up, but there was part of her that didn't care. The same part of her that never cared. Never wanted to.  
The same part of her that never cared for her own. Scars littered her skin, remnants of her own battles with life and herself alike- the scars she enjoyed.

But now? She wanted to rip each crack and scrape open, let herself bleed slowly and fade long, painfully.../suffer/.

And she'd do it. She'd do it in a heartbeat, the dagger at her thigh begging to be unsheathed.

And she did.


End file.
